Life Begins
by Welsh mama
Summary: A finale to my Perfect Delivery/Walls Come Tumbling Down universe: The Branson and Crawley families come together in South London to celebrate Tom's 40th birthday. Modern AU.


_As it all started with 'Perfect Delivery', it seemed only appropriate to conclude in the same universe. I hope you can remember the various plot lines and characters – even I had to re-read some of it as a reminder! So many people to try and use, or at the very least mention._

 _This is set nearly four years after the Epilogue of 'Walls Come Tumbling Down' and three years on from last year's one shot 'Perfect Deliverance'._

* * *

"Ow!" Tom clasped the top of his head with both hands as Sybil triumphantly held pinched fingers aloft.

"Got it!" she declared. "In fact, I got two."

Tom frowned and slid away from her along the sofa. "I think you got several" he muttered. "Have you left me with a bald patch?"

Sybil rolled her eyes and stood up. "God you're such a wimp. You _asked_ me to look for grey hairs."

"I asked you to _look_ , not tear off half my scalp."

"Last time, you specifically asked me to pull them out."

Tom pulled a face awash with self-pity. "Last time there weren't as many. There's more and more of them every time, it's a slippery slope."

Sybil swept a strand of hair away from her face and turned to face the kitchen. "Well Kieran's had the salt and pepper look for a while now and he's two years younger than you. I think it makes him look quite distinguished."

"Hmph." Tom rubbed the top of his head again. "Well he's got little else to help him out in that regard." He leant back into the cushions with a sigh. "I ache when I first get out of bed in the morning, I can't read any small print without standing under light…"

Sybil interrupted his flow of defeatism. "You're turning forty darling, not eighty. Life begins, or so they say. It doesn't shut down."

"That's very easy for you to say, Miss _I'm still in my early thirties_! You're not battling against the ravages of age."

"I've battled against the ravages of childbirth." Sybil replied with a swift grin. "Twice! So it's only fair that you should suffer a little in return."

He offered only a moment's hesitation. "And have you decided yet if you're prepared to suffer one more time?" Tom kept his tone light but watched his wife's reaction carefully. He yearned for a third child, which in his mind would perfectly complete their family unit. Only months beforehand, Sybil had been in full agreement, but there was always one thing or another to delay putting the plan into action – she started a new job, he was travelling a lot with work, then her Granny died. Now Rory was settled in the nursery unit at Eliza's school and Sybil was enjoying the advantages of a couple of child-free mornings each week, admitting that the decision to return to sleepless nights and nappy changes now seemed a little less appealing.

"Let's get past your party next week and talk about it properly" she suggested.

"Okay, but I'm getting older all the time, Syb. I don't want to be a pensioner at the school gates."

He saw her puff out her cheeks with frustration, followed by a hasty attempt to disguise it. "I'm asking you to wait a week, Tom. I've got loads to do, can't we just leave it for a few days?"

"I'm only kidding, Syb…"

Her face softened. "I know. I'm coming back round to the idea I think, but I just want to get past next weekend before we throw caution to the wind. All our families coming, loads to think about. We've caught so easily before that I want to be totally ready in my head before we try."

Tom blew gently on his knuckles and began to rub his shoulder with a self-satisfied smirk. "Well can I help it if I'm just super fertile…"

He pretended to duck as Sybil took a step towards him. "Oh get over yourself" she laughed, before a frown emerged and she pointed a finger. "And don't you _dare_ say anything like that in front of Kieran. Show some tact."

Before the conversation could proceed any further, a wail was heard from the playroom next door. "Eliza, stop it!" shouted Rory, which was followed by his sister's high pitched scream.

"MUMMY! Rory's pinching me!"

"Eliza won't let me watch my programme!"

"That's because it's for babies!"

"I'm _not_ a baby!"

"Well, if you watch it, you must be!"

"NOT!"

Tom met Sybil's eye and began to stand up. "World War Three is erupting once again."

"Mmm" she replied, moving towards the door and the scene of conflict. "And you think three children is a good idea…"

He watched her receding back with a grin. "Well, at least then someone would have the deciding vote."

* * *

"Happy Birthday once again Tom, now life really begins love" Elaine Branson leant up to bestow a kiss on her son's cheek before he encased her in a hug. "Although I'd say you've been pretty busy up 'til now so Lord knows what the next forty years will bring."

Tom smiled. "Good health and happiness for us all, I hope. Thanks again for coming over, Mam. It means a lot to me that you're here today."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, sweetheart."

Their two families – the Bransons and the Crawleys – were gathering in a private function room within a South London restaurant to celebrate Tom's big day. Elaine had flown over for the weekend from Dublin with her elder daughter, Fiona and family and was now eager to see her other grand-children who were imminently expected.

Tom's father-in-law appeared at his shoulder, a glass of champagne in one hand while sporting an air of affability.

"How marvellous that everyone has been able to come along today to share your celebration, Tom. It really is quite a feat."

"Indeed" Tom blinked at the accompanying slap on the shoulder and cast his mind back to little more than ten years earlier when Robert had accused him of using Sybil in order to further his career and was keen to expel him from Downton Abbey. Over time their relationship had evolved from reserved cordiality to mutual affection and although there were times in which Tom was frustrated by the formality and protocol which still took place in Yorkshire, he was otherwise grateful for the support and devotion given by Sybil's parents.

Edie arrived, resplendent in scarlet red and accompanied by six inch heels which she wore with aplomb, towering above her ten year old son. Fiona's eldest, Cillian, who all afternoon had been in a state of mounting excitement about meeting up with his cousins again, could contain his news no longer.

"Aiden!" he shouted, lurching forward, an arm aloft. "I've the new Minecraft on my DS! It's ace!"

Two years his elder, Aiden's fleeting look of envy was swiftly replaced by a more measured approach. "Cool. Let's see."

Fiona reached out to touch Cillian's arm "No consoles when we get to the table, remember. You've got about twenty minutes" she said before moving to embrace her sister. "Edie, I don't know how you can even stand up in those shoes."

"For the love of God, 'tis a wonder you don't break your neck" added Elaine, arms outstretched towards her youngest child.

While Tom caught up with his sisters, Sybil moved across the room to chat to her own. Mary stood by her toddler son, George who was repetitively driving a toy dumper truck into the skirting board with undisguised glee.

"I'll move him if I think he's going to seriously damage anything, I promise Sybil, but the boy is never content until he's destroyed some item of worth wherever he goes. A strip of skirting seems a reasonable sacrifice - they'll never notice and if they do, I'll pay for the new paint."

Sybil grinned. "I can't imagine you letting him get away with too much, Mary. Your house still always seems immaculate whenever we visit, even now you have George."

Matthew passed behind the two women with a wry smile. "She's out with the tester pot of paint at least once a week, Sybil. And that large cupboard under the stairs? It's where she throws all his toys when someone's coming over. I went to get my walking boots and was felled by an avalanche of Fisher Price plastic tumbling from above. She didn't dig me out for two days…"

"You're exaggerating just a little, darling…" Mary donned her sweetest smile.

"By only the narrowest of margins. Now point me in the direction of the loo will you, Syb?"

"So, Edith…" Sybil glanced down to where her other sister was sitting on the floor, legs tucked under her, watching her nephew play. "…are you going to be as fastidious about keeping the house tidy when baby comes?"

Edith adopted a pious look of self-satisfaction. "I'm nowhere near as anal as Mary about these things. Children should be allowed to express themselves I think, it's pointless trying to restrain them with all these adult expectations."

"That's only because you don't have anything worth maintaining, Edith." Mary pointed out with a tight smile. "You're _so_ susceptible to this recent marketing of junk as 'pre-loved'. You'd be better off buying one or two decent pieces for the same price."

"Not all of us believe that age creates beauty" Edith replied, her eyes narrowing in preparation for battle.

Mary responded with a cool stare. "Are you referring to furniture or life in general? Only I'd go so far as to suggest that up until this point, my skincare regime is proving more successful than yours."

"Stop it!" Sybil raised her palms in the air, well versed with the role of peacekeeper. "It's Tom's birthday, stop sniping at one another, it's horrible."

She was greeted with immediate silence before Edith tipped her head to one side. "So why did you ask me such a deliberately provocative question, Sybil?"

"Yes." Mary nodded her head. "Surely you know by now that asking one of us to compare our self to the other is only going to lead to conflict?"

"It was a silly question, Sybil" Edith added and she and Mary turned to look at one another with surprise, unusually unified by a point of contention against their sister.

"I give up…" Sybil murmured. "I'll leave you to it." As she turned around, the final guests arrived. Gwen gave a cheerful wave before she and Kieran were immediately ambushed by their niece and nephews, all enthusiastic to play their part in a well versed routine.

"Where's the man?" Kieran asked loudly and held a hand to his forehead like a sailor seeking land.

Rory leapt at his trouser leg. "Here! I'm here.!"

"And how is the man today?"

The boy took a deep breath in preparation. "The man's just grand!" he declared with a flawless switch to an accent weighted heavily in favour of his Irish roots, rather than the House of Grantham.

"Well I'm glad to hear it. Eliza, give me five!" Eliza raised her arm and met her uncle's palm with her own, her giggles commencing even before Kieran dropped to his knees and cradled one arm with another.

"Dear God, what have you done to me? Did you see that there boys?" Cillian, his younger brother Oisin and Aiden all clamoured to offer their own exchange, while Eliza looked up at Gwen and concluded their part in the charade by each mouthing 'He's so silly' at one another.

A waiter stepped forward with a tray of fluted champagne. Kieran wrinkled his nose.

"Am I allowed a pint instead?"

"Of course sir, I'll just fetch one."

"Can I have something soft please?" Gwen asked. "A J20, anything like that?"

"Certainly madam."

Gwen turned her head and her eyes met Sybil's raised eyebrows head on. "We went out for a bite to eat after work last night and I had seafood. Something wasn't right, I had a dodgy tummy all night. I'm going to play safe until I've had something to eat."

Sybil's knowing grin was swiftly cut short as Gwen stepped towards her and lowered her voice. "Don't get excited, Syb. I'm _not_. I came on last week so stop getting ahead of yourself."

"Well sometimes it's still possible…"

Gwen raised a hand to try and ward off any further expectation. "I'm not and that's final. Honestly, you're far more wound up about this than I am."

"All I said was that it wouldn't do any harm to ask about having some preliminary tests…"

"It's only been six months for God's sake..."

"Seven"

"Anyway." Gwen's tone bore more than a hint of frustration. "I'm 33, I'm not worried, time's still on my side. Not everyone gets pregnant the moment their knickers hit the floor."

"No…" The corners of Sybil's mouth twitched. "Or you'd have thousands by now…"

"Give over…" Gwen dug an elbow into her friend's ribs. "Well maybe you're right! We're not short on practice you'll be glad to hear."

"Okay, spare me the details."

"You can go ahead and have another one without me you know? You don't have to wait for me. It's not like women going to the loo in pubs, it's not compulsory to go in pairs."

Sybil laughed. "I know. It would be lovely to have one near each other though, don't you think?"

"Will you just stop trying to plan my life for me, Syb?"

"Sorry, it's just…"

Kieran appeared, casually draping an arm over his wife's shoulder before pretending to nibble the top of her ear.

"Get off!" she responded, but her nudge to his ribs was gentle and she was smiling nonetheless.

The three chatted further only briefly before the party was called to the huge oval table which could sit them all and pre-ordered meals were soon brought out. At Tom's insistence it was an informal affair. He could afford to indulge his guests with decent champagne and a good lunch, but with six children present, he wanted to avoid any sense of ceremony and had ensured that there were suitable age related diversions for those who should not be expected to sit still for long.

Half way through the second course, Sybil leant into his shoulder. "Enjoying it?" she asked with an indulgent beam. She had been liberal with the wine distribution and her sense of perspective was even more upbeat than usual.

Tom looked down at his rack of lamb and nodded. "It's very nice, yes thanks. What about yours?"

Sybil was momentarily distracted by his line of thought. "Er yes. I didn't so much mean the meal really, I meant the occasion itself."

Her husband leant back in his chair and surveyed his guests thoughtfully. "What, all of our families together in the same room for the first time since our wedding? That's pretty special, don't you think? I'm touched that they've all made it, they've busy lives between them."

"And what about the whole idea of turning forty, Tom? Was the anticipation worse than the actual event? She raised her left arm to glance at her watch. "You've been forty for about, um…eight and a half hours now, I think. Weren't you born at half past four in the morning?"

"I don't know. I can't remember." Tom replied with an expression of mock gravity. "Do you know Syb, I think now it's finally happened and I've been unable to dodge it, I've decided I'm just going to embrace it. My thirties were better than my twenties because I'd just met you and then we got married and had the kids. Some of it's whizzed past in a blur to be honest, but when I think how different life might have been if I hadn't met you…"

"If Edie hadn't had all those problems with her pregnancy." Sybil interjected.

"If we hadn't bumped into each other again away from the hospital."

"You're going to bring up me having a go at you in the garage again, aren't you?"

Tom closed his eyes while the corners of his mouth began to twitch. "I'm going to just erase that whole episode from my mind, Syb. Let's decide to just wipe the slate clean shall we?"

"Oh shut up" Sybil swiped him gently with her hand. "You'll never let me forget it as long as I live."

Tom caught the hand with his own and gave it a squeeze. "I'm very glad you did or I might not have realised quite how much I liked you." They sat still for a moment and each smiled, ten and a half years of shared experiences and affection binding them like a protective cocoon into which nobody else could break through.

 _I'm a lucky man_ thought Tom and with it came a kind of clarity which only love and wine entwined can provide. Like most in their prime of youth, he had dreaded the idea of middle age – the physical changes it brought, ever increasing responsibilities and a seeping recognition of one's own mortality. While all were now present, he did not feel weighed down by such worries, only blessed by the good fortune and happiness he now enjoyed. He understood that he had been lucky with his family – only the premature death of his father cast a shadow over their bond. There were no sibling disputes, nor marital strife. For all the love he and Sybil shared, marriage was a gamble with which he had struck lucky. It wasn't always perfect and the arrival of young children brought mounting tensions as well as unprecedented joy. It took hard work and compromise to keep things evenly balanced – love alone is often too flimsy to stand the test of weightier circumstances. He still hoped that Sybil could be persuaded to have one more baby, but the thought didn't keep him awake at night. He would accept whatever part Sybil or fate made clear. They were already luckier than many.

"Thank you" he murmured and raised the back of his wife's hand to his lips. "For today and for everything."

So engrossed in self-reflection, it took a while for Tom to adjust his hearing to the network of conversations taking place around him.

Seated to his right, Elaine leant forward. "How many months do you have to go, Edith? You're still looking very slim."

A light blush accompanied Edith's beaming smile. She was always taken by surprise to be the centre of conversation in any large gathering. "I'm just over four months. It's due late September."

"How lovely, you must be very excited to be welcoming another grandchild, Cora?"

Sybil's mother tipped her head and produced a practiced smile which kept personal anxieties well hidden. "Of course, it'll be wonderful."

"You'll have to have a chat with Edie later, Edith." Mary cut in. "I'm sure she can provide some excellent advice about single parenting."

Sybil closed her eyes and waited for her middle sister's wrath. When it came it was more measured than expected. "I'd love to chat to Edie about lots of things, but I'm not a single parent, Mary so we're coming at it with different circumstances, as well you know."

"Well you're as good as. You'll be doing it practically on your own."

"Michael will be back as often as he can and of course we'll fly over to Germany as well."

"But he won't be involved on a daily basis, will he? That's all I meant."

"Mary…" Matthew kept his tone light but there was a hint of warning within. "Edith and Michael have thought it all through, I'm sure they'll both do a great job."

"Munich's a fabulous city" Tom added cheerfully. "And job offers like that don't come up very often."

"I could have gone with him" Edith avoided the continued gaze of Mary and spoke directly to Elaine. "But I want to keep hands on with my farm shop business so we decided I'd stay here. It's only a three year contract anyway and then he'll be back.

"You hope" muttered Mary low enough for only Sybil and Matthew to hear.

"Good for you" Edie nodded encouragingly. "It'll be tough to begin with but I'm sure you'll do a grand job. Just accept any offer of help from friends and family, that's my only advice. Give yourself a break now and then. But we don't all need a man around all the time, do we?"

"Yes what did happen with…?" Edith glanced in the direction of the children who had been granted a break from the formality of sitting at the table. "William?" she mouthed.

"Didn't work out in the end" Edie replied cheerfully. "It's fine, no ill will, we just weren't meant to be. Aiden's not quite as pally with his son any more but I still see him about, there's no hard feelings. I'm not sure I'm meant to be with anyone really, I've got too used to being by myself. Maybe when Aiden's older, we'll see. I'm not bothered for the time being, I still like being with him more than anyone."

An audible sigh of regret escaped Elaine's lips although she knew her daughter better than to add any further comment.

"And how's things with Aiden's Dad since he got married?"

"Oh it's fine really, all things considering. Julia's very nice, Aiden likes her and she's always been pretty friendly to me. I mean, we don't really do things just the three of us anymore, I can understand that she probably wouldn't like that. But Charlie still has Aiden every other weekend and on Wednesday nights. I guess we'll just have to see if anything changes once their baby's born. But Aiden's pretty excited about having a baby brother so…"

"Oh…" said Sybil. "They've had their scan then?"

"Yeah, last week. He's going to be called Dexter, apparently."

"How very American" Mary added before turning her head to offer a smirk at her mother, who rolled her eyes in good-natured response.

"Oh these surname type names are pretty popular over here now, Mary." Sybil said. "There's quite a few in Eliza's school."

"Possibly in the state system, yes."

"Oh Mary, you're _such_ a snob…"

The children returned enthusiastically to the table when dessert was served, then were once again excused to play while the adults concluded with coffees. The parents amongst them enjoyed respite from their usual roles as chief entertainers, infrequently seen cousins offering more desirable distractions. After a while Eliza felt the frustration of being the only girl on both sides of the family and tried to distract the elder generation by pirouetting around the table, arms outstretched.

"Watch me, watch me!" she cried, exulting in the indulgent applause offered before she attempted a second circuit and crashed sideways into the table, her centre of balance now misplaced.

"I think it might be time to go home" murmured Sybil as she wiped her daughter's tear stained cheeks. "There's not enough room in here, they need to let off some steam. They've all been so good."

"Okay folks" Tom called out. "Let's take these kids up on the common to have a run about and then come back to ours for a drink or two."

"Or five" agreed Kieran.

After a little less than an hour, the children's energies were mostly spent and the youngest, George made his exhaustion clear by voluntarily climbing into his pushchair and placing his thumb firmly in his mouth.

Back home Sybil pulled out earlier prepared snacks for both adults and children, filling the kettle and making sure that the fridge was suitably stocked with wine and beer. A Scooby Doo film seemed to satisfy the range of ages in the playroom and only George's attention span failed to last the full 82 minutes.

"I'm so grateful to you all for coming today, it means a lot." Tom said with a raised glass, trying to make eye contact with all of the adults packed into their modestly sized living room and nodding at the reciprocal platitudes.

"I'd like to thank Sybil for organising the meal, well for everything really. She booked Fiona and Niall's hotel, she got the spare room ready for Mam, organised taxis for those of you staying up in town…"

"Oh right, she wants us gone does she?" quipped Matthew. "What time are we being thrown out?"

"I can hardly believe my son is forty" Elaine murmured, shaking her head into the mug of tea she was balancing on her knees. "All my children will be there soon enough, it makes me feel so old."

A general murmur of dissent arose, throats were cleared in jest with mutterings of "I've still got five years if you don't mind."

Tom coughed to regain his audience. "Seriously everyone. I'm so grateful to have a supportive and loving family with you all. It's been a fantastic day, here's to the next forty years!"

"Dear God, I'll be a hundred and four" said Elaine laughing. "You'll have to wheel me in for the next one."

"Are we not all meeting for lunch tomorrow?" asked Fiona. "He's talking as if he's not going to see us again."

Kieran winked and gave a staged whisper. "He's had a few and he can't handle it like he used to. It makes him all maudlin, like. That's what happens when you turn forty you see Fi. Be warned!"

"So Kieran's making the most of it while he still can!" Gwen laughed and her husband reached out to pull her close.

"Ah you're only as young as the woman you feel, isn't that right Tom? So we're alright for a while yet."

"I think the first taxi's here" said Edith, peering out of the window and rising to her feet.

"Do you mind if we take it and get George to bed?" asked Mary. "You can stay and keep Mum and Dad company."

"Story of my life…" said Edith so softly that only Fiona's husband Niall, who was sitting beside her, heard and everyone wondered why he abruptly spluttered into his drink.

The Crawley family were dispatched to their central London residence, while Fiona declined a similar offer for her family and chose to walk the few streets to their hotel. A sulky Aiden reluctantly followed Edie soon after.

"I'm nearly eleven, Mum. I don't see why we can't stay longer. I bet Eliza isn't going to bed yet."

"You're not even ten and a half yet Aiden and I bet she is."

"She is" Sybil added firmly. "Go on, make sure your Mum doesn't topple over in those shoes. We'll see you tomorrow."

Gwen and Kieran remained a while longer, the house abounding with good natured banter while glasses were refilled and memories shared. Once all talk became more frequently interspersed with reluctant yawns, Elaine announced that she was off to bed and Gwen tugged at her husband's arm.

"Come on, let's get home. We'll be doing it all again tomorrow and you need your beauty sleep!"

Kieran nodded solemnly. "Whereas you my love, manage to maintain that image of perfection without any effort at all."

"Right answer" Gwen replied and gave Sybil a wink. "I've got him well trained."

"I know which side my bread is buttered" Kieran muttered before he flashed a grin and took his wife's hand. "Right, let's go then. Your carriage awaits."

"I thought we were walking?" said Gwen.

"We are but I'll give you a piggy back if you're good."

Tom and Sybil closed the door behind them and stood facing one another in their unlit hallway, while slivers of moonlight shone through patterned glass and adorned the adjacent wall like a Mondrian painting.

"Well then, old man." Sybil said with a sly grin, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Oi! Less of the old man if you don't mind. My life's just beginning if what everyone is telling me proves correct."

Tom gave a smile through the shards of illumination which made Sybil's stomach flutter and she kept a shiver of excitement in check.

"Well…" she said with a coy tip to the head.

"Mmmm?"

"We'd better get on with having another baby then, hadn't we? If you don't want to be taking it to university in your bath chair, that is."

He stretched his head back and met her eye. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I told you I was coming back round to the idea."

"But you said you wanted to get past this weekend before you decided for sure? I mean, I don't want you to regret it if it's the wine making you feel impulsive."

"I'm more sober than you."

"To be honest that's not difficult after today. Look, shall we talk about it again later in the week? I'm more than happy to go upstairs and make love to you by the way, I've no complaints there…"

His sacrificial suggestion was curtailed by a firm kiss to the lips.

"I said I've decided. Now if you've changed your mind…"

"I haven't."

"Good"

Side by side and arms entwined, they walked up the stairs.

 _The clock ticks, another day draws to a close. Love prevails and a new life begins._


End file.
